


A Typical Morning

by LouTheStarSpeaker



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Family, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouTheStarSpeaker/pseuds/LouTheStarSpeaker
Summary: The Terrible Two are scheming, Virgil just wants to be sleeping, and the brothers are faced with a bit of a situation. A typical morning in the Tracy household.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	A Typical Morning

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Thunderbirds story- written years ago and has been up on FF.Net. It was only fitting this would be the first of my stories on AO3. I hope you enjoy!  
> ~Lou

Scott entered the kitchen, still sweaty from him morning run. Virgil and Grandma were still in bed, but that was to be expected. Kayo was out following a lead in Sweden, and Brain’s was away at an engineer’s convention. John was, of course, up on Thunderbird Five. And Gordon and Alan were at the table eating… ice cream?

“Ice cream for breakfast, guys?” Scott asked with his scolding big brother tone.

“It’s  _ way _ too hot out for waffles or eggs or anything, Scott.” Alan said. “Ice cream really is the logical choice. Isn’t it, Brother Gordon?” Alan asked as he nudged his blond brother with his elbow.  _ Brother Gordon _ ?

Gordon looked up at Scott with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

Oh boy.

“But of course, Brother Alan. You see, Brother Scott, ice cream’s just frozen milk. It’s no worse than having, say, cereal.” Gordon said, swallowing a mouthful.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Nice try, Gordon. But ice cream has a heck of a lot more sugar than cereal.” He said pouring himself a bowl of Cheerios.

Matching grins spread across the faces of the two youngest Tracy brothers. Why did Scott feel like he’d just walked right into a trap?

“Brother Alan? If you would?” Gordon asked with a dramatic gesture to the kitchen cabinets.

“But of course,” Alan said, moving over to said cabinets, dropping his bowl in the sink as he passed it. “ I present, Exhibit A!” Alan pulled a blue cereal box out of the cabinet with a flourish. “Virgil’s favorite cereal. Frosted Flakes! Each individual corn flake is dusted with- wait for it- sugar! Now I don’t know about you, but if Virgil can eat that almost everyday then I don’t see why Gordon and me should be denied a little ice cream.”

“Well for one thing-” Scott began, but was quickly interrupted by Gordon.

“Nope. We’ve worked too hard on this presentation for it to be interrupted halfway through.” They’d planned this? Of course they’d planned this.

“Exhibit B, Brother Gordon?” Alan asked.

“Exhibit B!” Gordon pulled another cereal box from the cabinet, this one red. “Lucky Charms! Johnny-boy’s favorite cereal when he comes planetside. Do you know what Lucky Charms contain? Marshmallows! And do you know what said marshmallows are made of? Sugar! They’re literally  _ cubes _ of sugar!” Gordon announced with dramatic hand gestures.

“Except you’re forgetting-” Scott tried, but this time was cut off by Alan.

“Nuh-uh. Still not finished. The final Exhibit, Exhibit C!” Alan pulled out one final box. “Cookie Crisps! A cereal literally made of little cookies!”

“And do you know who we saw eating this cereal just last week?” Gordon asked, pausing for dramatic effect. “Why you, Brother Scott!” He answered jabbing an accusing finger in Scott’s direction as Alan sucked in an astonished gasp.

Gordon slung an arm across his younger brothers shoulders in mock comfort.

“There, there, Allie.” Gordon said dramatically, patting Alan’s shoulder. “What do you have to say for yourself, Brother Scott.” For a moment Scott just stood there in stunned silence. He wanted to poke holes in their logic but he really couldn’t dispute them, everything they’d said was true. And it was a long-standing, unsaid rule in the Tracy household that if Scott couldn't argue your argument then he had to allow you your wish. 

So, backed into a corner Scott had no choice but to say, “Y’know what? Fine. Eat your ice cream. But just this once, okay?”

“Yes!” Alan cheered, pumping a fist in the air and springing from Gordon’s grasp.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Gordon grinned.

“Wait a second,” Alan said, “ You said the plan was foolproof!”

“Yeah, well, I was halfway expecting Scott to realize that we ate all the cereal ourselves, forcing him to eat Cookie Crisps, which is, of course, the main point of our argument.” Gordon said, now smirking as he went over to the freezer to refill his bowl.

“Wait a second. You guys ate  _ all _ the cereal last week?” Scott asked, his spoon pausing halfway to his mouth.

“Oh yeah.” Alan confirmed with a grin. “And trust me, it was  _ not _ easy. This family eats a  _ ton _ of cereal.” He said as he reached up to get another bowl of the shelves.

“Hold up. Didn’t you already get a bowl?” Scott asked, choosing- perhaps for the sake of his sanity- to ignore the comments about eating half a month's worth of cereal in less than a week, and change the subject.

“Well, yeah. But I put that one in the sink, it’s a reflex.” Alan answered shrugging his shoulders and continuing to reach for the bowl.

Scott raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, no. Go wash out your bowl, Alan.” He said with an amused smile.

Alan opened his mouth to argue but then shut it again. As the youngest, he knew the importance of choosing one’s battles. So instead Alan sighed out a “Fiiiiine,” and trudged over to the sink. Alan glanced over at Gordon. “Oh hey, Gordon, don’t eat all of that, alright? Mint chocolate chip is my favorite.”

“Oh, I know.” Gordon said, taking his bowl and sitting across from Scott.

“You know not to eat it all or you know it’s his favorite?” Scott asked quietly as Gordon sat down. His little brother just grinned, that mischievous gleam again in his eye.

Having finished washing his bowl, Alan went to turn off the water. But as his fingers touched the knobs, they shot off from the sink, water erupting from where they’d just been and shooting up like jetstreams.

“ _ What the heck!? _ ” Alan exclaimed jumping back from the sink.

Gordon and Scott were already on their feet.

“Alan, what in the world did you  _ do _ ?” Gordon asked, gazing at the twin geysers that had suddenly exploded from the sink.

“Nothing! All I did was try to turn off the water!”

Scott didn’t take the time to speak as he bounded across the wet floor and slapped his hands on the geysers in an attempt to block out the water. But Scott’s palms redirected the water, making it shoot outwards instead of upwards, spraying Scott’s shirtfront and face.

“Where are the knobs?” Scott spluttered, trying to turn his head away.

“I don’t know, they shot off somewhere.” Alan said, trying to dodge the spray.

“Find them!”

“Got it, Scott.” Alan dropped down to his knees on the wet floor.

“I didn’t even think this was possible!” Gordon said crouching down beside his little brother, “I mean does this look like a saturday cartoon to you?”

I know right? Who knew Tom & Jerry was so accurate?”

“Hurry up, please!” Scott said, his eyes now closed against the inevitable torrent of water.

“Trying, Sco- Oh I found them!” Alan exclaimed, snatching the faucet knobs off the ground and tossing them to Gordon, who was already standing next to Scott.

Handing one of the knobs to Scott, he and Gordon tried their best to shove the knobs back into place. But, try as they might, water still sprayed out like a sprinkler.

“Alan you need to turn off the tap.” Gordon said, “Under the sink there are two knobs, one for the hot water, one for the cold. Turn them both all the way to the right.”

“Um, okay. But how do you know all this anyway, Gordo?” Alan asked as he opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Well, it all started years ago when-”

“Here’s an idea,” Scott interrupted, “ Why don’t you tell him the story  _ after _ he turns off the sink.”

Alan chuckled. “ You might be part fish, Gordy, but Scott can’t stand much more of this water.”

You’re right, Al. He’s getting to be a bit like a grumpy cat.”

“Well you know, Gordon,” Scott said, “Cats  _ eat _ fish.”

“That’s true, Scotty. But I’m more like a dolphin I think. Graceful. Adorable.  _ Beloved by all _ .”

“Did you just say _ adorable _ ?” Scott asked incredulously.

And even though Alan was thoroughly enjoying listening to his brothers’ conversation, he’d discovered a more important, but far less humorous development. 

“Um, guys? It looks like the shut off valve needs a key or something.” 

“Oh, I think I know where that is.” Gordon said. “Hold this thing for me will ya, Scott?” Gordon darted across the kitchen and opened a drawer next to the dishwasher, he rifled through the papers and envelopes for a few moments before frowning. “It’s not here.”

Scott groaned, though it came out like more of a splutter. “I was afraid of that.” He said. “Virgil must still have the key. He turned off the water when he was patching the pipe under there the other day. Alan, you’re gonna need to go ask Virgil where he put it.”

“But, he’s  _ asleep _ , Scott. And it’s barely seven.” Alan protested.

“I know.”

“And he didn’t get back ‘till after midnight.” 

“I know that too, Alan. But we need the key and Virgil has it. He doesn’t even have to get out of bed, all he’s gotta do is tell you where it is.”

“But, couldn’t  _ Gordon _ do it?” He asked with a hopeful glance at his only blonde brother.

“Well, I’m sorry, Alan, but, as the only aquanaut, I’m sorely needed here, and frail, old Scott can’t hold onto both these things for forever.” Gordon said as he practically pried his older brother’s hand of the knob and clamped his own down on top of it. 

The glare Alan sent him was full of betrayal. But, as everyone knows, when it comes to waking the bear, it’s every man for himself.

Alan sloshed slowly through the water towards the steps, maybe if he looked really miserable Scott would cave and do the job himself. 

No such luck. Instead of the remorseful speech he was hoping for, “Hey, Sprout, maybe pick up the pace?” was all he got.

So, deciding not to prolong the inevitable, Alan trotted quickly up the stairs and down the corridor that led to the bedrooms. Stopping in front of Virgil’s room, Alan raised his fist to knock.

* * *

From under his blankets, a harsh annoying sound pulled a tired, somewhat achy, Virgil from sleep.

Someone was knocking on his door.

Virgil growled and and dove under his covers, shutting his eyes in protest. If he ignored them, usually the offender would go away.

Usually.

Virgil’s eyes snapped open to the sound of his youngest brothers voice.

“Hey, Virgil. Virge, are you awake?” What in the  _ world _ did Alan want? Virgil growled again. A sign that he was awake, and he most definitely didn’t want to be, and a considerate warning that the health of the speaker was at risk.

He was nice like that. Like a rattlesnake.

Virgil could see through the little breathing hole in his blanket cave that Alan had now stuck his head in through the open doorway.

“Hey, Virge. Um, sorry to wake you up, but we’ve got a bit of a problem and we need your help.” Virgil paused, thinking for a moment. It didn’t seem like this “problem” was an emergency, Alan wouldn’t have bothered with the “sorry to wake you up,” bit if it was, but Virgil was a firm believer that it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Is this problem a life or death situation?” He mumbled from underneath his blankets.

“Um, no.”

“Does it have anything to do with Thunderbird 2?”

“No.”

“Then it can wait ‘till eight.” Virgil said resolved, closing his eyes again. He might even make it wait until nine.

“Well, no, Virge. It really can’t.” Virgil growled again and Alan continued. “You don’t even need to get out of bed, it’s just a question.” Fine, if it was just a question then it would be easier to answer it and be done with the matter then to put up with more pestering, hoping Alan would go away.

“Fine, what is it, Alan?”

“Where’d you leave the key for the shutoff valve under the kitchen sink?”

“ _ What? _ ” Virgil asked incredulously, propping himself on his elbows and pulling the covers from his head. He couldn’t have heard that right.

“The key for the shutoff valve under the sink. You had it last.”

“Why the heck do you need that at” -he checked his clock- “seven oh four in the morning?”

“Uh, maybe to shut off the water to the kitchen sink?” Alan suggested, an unspoken “duh” at the end of the sentence.

Virgil rolled over in bed. “Forget it, Alan. I’m not being dragged into some prank you and Gordon cooked up.”

“It’s not a prank, Virge. The sink broke and now there’s water spraying everywhere, I think there might even be some on the ceiling. And it’s all over the counters and the floor and- oh my gosh!  _ Grandma! _ She’s going to be furious if she sees that mess!” Alan gasped. “And the  _ ice cream _ ! What if she checks the ice cream!”

Virgil didn’t get most of that, but he gathered that there was something wrong with the sink and Alan needed to turn off the water. (He really didn’t understand where ice cream fit into all this, and why Grandma would be upset about it.) 

However, now Virgil was weighing his sense of responsibility against his want for rest. He really  _ should _ help his brothers clean up the mess, instead of just telling them where the key was. He might even be able to fix the sink before their grandmother woke if the damage wasn’t too bad. 

But then he reminded himself that he didn’t get in last night until almost one o’clock in the morning, and it wasn’t even seven-thirty yet, and that a sleepy rescue operative was no good to anyone. His sense of responsibility satisfied, Virgil said “The key’s in that drawer next to the dishwasher.”

Alan frowned. “No it isn’t.” He said.

“Yes it is, I put it there.”

Alan shook his head, “No it isn’t.” He repeated.

“Alan, that’s where I always put it. It’s in there.”

“We checked, Virgil. It’s. Not. There.” Virgil sighed inwardly. So much for sleep. Grumbling, Virgil rolled out of bed. He trudged downstairs, clad in his pajamas, with Alan running ahead of him. That kid really did only have one speed.

Virgil’s foot made a splat sound as it connected with the wet floor. He stared open mouthed at the usually immaculate kitchen. He felt like he’d just walked into the ocean. Or back in time to when Gordon was twelve and he’d thought it’d be a cool idea to have an indoor pool party. But all he grumbled out was, “I’m gonna have to change my socks before I go back to sleep.” 

That drew a laugh from Gordon and Alan, though not from Scott he noticed. But you really couldn’t blame him. Scott stood with his hand pressed on top of a faucet knob, water spraying in his face, completely drenched, from head to toe. He looked even grumpier than Virgil felt. 

Gordon, on the other hand, was Scott’s opposite, and was as he always is when he was soaked to the skin, grinning widely and perfectly happy. 

Huh. A Scowling Scott next to a Grinning Gordon. The thought almost made him chuckle. And Virgil had always appreciated alliteration, it was perhaps his favorite figurative language.

Virgil shook his head. What  _ was _ he thinking? He really needed to go back to sleep. 

He sloshed across the floor towards the dishwasher and opened the drawer next to it.

“That’s where I checked,” Gordon said. “It’s not in there.” Wordlessly, Virgil pulled an envelope from the stack inside the drawer. Turning to face his brothers, he showed it to them. Written across the envelope in bold letters were the words “ Shut Off Key.” Virgil reached inside the envelope and removed a a shiny sliver of metal with a fishtailed end.

Gordon, as usual, was the first to speak, “Well. Would ya look at that.” At which point Alan started cracking up, laughing too much to even get a breath in. “ _ Wow _ , Gordon,” He managed in between wheezing gasps.

“Really, Gordon?” Scott asked. “How did you miss that?”

“ _ Well _ , I was looking for a  _ key _ . I didn’t bother checking the envelopes. Who looks at envelopes when they’re looking for a key?”

Virgil chuckled as he inserted the key into the valve. Even if he was losing sleep over this, at least it was amusing. Well, if he didn’t think to hard about the mess all of this had caused. With a click, the valves unlocked and Virgil turned both wheels all the way to the right, shutting off the water. 

“Thank goodness.” Scott muttered as he finally let go of the knob.

“Oh darn.” Scott heard Virgil say, his head still under the sink.

“What’s the problem, Virge?” Scott asked.

“Pipe under here’s cracked again. I’m gonna have to replace the whole thing this time.” Virgil replied, pulling his head from under the sink.

“You need your toolbox?” Alan asked. When Virgil nodded, Alan offered to go get it, careful not to sound too eager. He would hang out in the Virgil’s workshop for a bit, while his brothers cleaned up the mess. And with John calling for morning check-in soon, his brothers would soon forget all about him while explaining the whole story behind the waterlogged kitchen. By the time Alan’s brothers remembered him, the kitchen would be all cleaned up. 

Alan spun on his heel and sped off towards the stairs. His socks making that same splating sound Virgil’s did. It wasn’t often that Alan pulled the wool over of his brothers’ eyes. He was going to make the most of it. He had his phone in his pocket, maybe he’d play some video games.

Suddenly, his feet slipped and flew out from under him, at the sound of Alan’s startled gasp each of his brothers whipped their heads around to face him. It happened so quickly, but they would each remember it in slow motion. Alan’s arms pinwheeled desperately as gravity pulled him down, his eyes wide with shock. He landed hard on his back, his head colliding with the floor with a solid thunk. 

“ _ Alan _ !”

Scott, Virgil, and Gordon all rushed to Alan’s side.

“Alan, are you alright?” Scott asked, flipping himself into rescue mode.

“ _ Ow _ ,” came the response. Alan stared up at his brothers huddled around his fallen form. “Really guys? All I did was slip.” Alan said, already beginning to lift himself to his elbows.

“You didn’t break anything did you?” Virgil asked making to help Alan sit up. Alan shrugged off his hands, and those of Gordon and Scott, sitting up on his own. 

_ Only my pride _ , Alan thought,  _ I’m a fully trained member of International Rescue and I slipped on a puddle ‘cause I was running in the house. I swear this is karma for not listening Grandma all those years.  _

Out loud he simply said, “I’m fine.” Standing up now, Scott’s grip on his arm was gentle but firm, and he was conveniently ignoring Alan’s not-so-subtle hints to let him go. However, as Alan straightened up, he winced, making the Smother Brother’s concern mount tenfold.

“What is it, Alan?” Scott asked, it was quite possible his brother had broken something in the fall.

“My butt hurts.” Alan mumbled, his cheeks reddening. Gordon barked out a laugh, and even Virgil and Scott had to purse their lips to keep from smiling.  _ My face is probably the same color as Thunderbird 3 by now.  _

“Sit him at the table.” Virgil said, thankfully changing the subject, as he rummaged through another drawer. “I want to test his pupils.” 

“Why don’t we have kitchen chairs with cushions?” Alan grumbled as he sat painstakingly on the wooden chair. Gordon tried to smother another snigger with a cough, but it just ended up sounding like a demented fish trying to breath air, which, oddly, isn’t too far from the truth.

Scott glared at him. “Go get him a pillow, Gordon.”

“I was gonna,” Came the wheezy reply. Gordon swiped the cushion off a stool just as Virgil walked from behind bar, penlight in hand. 

“What, do you stash those all around the house waiting for us to bang our head on a wall or something?” Gordon asked jokingly.

Virgil just smiled as he passed him, walking toward his patient.

Gordon blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Gordon, with you in mind, I’d stash whole  _ hospitals _ around the house if I could.”

“Hey! I am not clumsy.”

“Course not. Just prone to breaking things.” 

Gordon tried to come up with a snarky comeback, but his sparkling wit failed him, so he settled for being childish and stuck his tongue out at Virgil’s turned back.

Catching up with his brothers at the table, Gordon offered up the dripping wet pillow to Alan, half apologetic, half amused when he told him that it was “a little soggy.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” Alan said, “So’s the chair, so am I.” Holding out his arms to reveal is thoroughly soaked t-shirt. Alan plopped the pillow down on his chair and sat on it with a squelch that sent him and Gordon into new peels of laughter.

“Okay, okay calm down. I’ve got to check your eyes.” Virgil said, flicking on his penlight and shining it in Alan’s eyes. He watched them expand and dilate, then had Alan follow the beam. Virgil’s face in that unreadable medic expression the entire time.

“Well, you look alright.” Virgil said finally. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on the back of your head, but it looks like you’ve saved yourself from a concussion. Let me know if you get any symptoms though. You know, nausea, confusion, blurry vision-”

“Headache and vertigo, I know.” Alan finished for him.

“So is he cleared for rescues, Virge?” Scott asked.

Virgil’s eyebrows rose, as if he was surprised the question needed to be asked. “Definitely not.”

“Whoa, wait,  _ what _ ? Alan exclaimed, his head turning sharply to his brother.

“Concussions can develop hours, even days, after the initial incident. I’m taking you off duty for 48 hours for observation.”

“Are you  _ kidding _ ? Scott?” Alan’s eyes were on him now, his gaze silently pleading him to make Virgil change his mind.

“Sorry, Alan. Virgil’s authority supersedes mine when it comes to medical matters.” Scott admitted. 

“I can’t believe this.” Alan said, throwing his arms up in frustration. “ I  _ slipped _ , you’re acting like I busted my skull open!”

“To be fair, Alan.” Gordon said. “ You didn’t “just slip”, you completely  _ wiped out _ . I swear, you went vertical for a second there.”

Alan glared at him, his arms crossed. “Wow, thanks for the show of support, Gordon.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Think about it, Al. We can’t have you getting dizzy and passing out while you’re scaling a building or flying through an asteroid field.” Gordon said, his tone suddenly serious and undaunted by his younger brothers anger. 

Alan, like Scott, had a fiery temper, but, unlike their eldest brother, he lacked his steel resolve, and Alan’s anger burned out quickly, and it had always been Gordon who could douse the flames the quickest. And, as predicted, Alan’s anger receded and he began to see reason. 

“Alright, I get it.” He sighed. “ But can’t I still help out from here?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t develop any symptoms.” Virgil shrugged.

“Good, now that that’s out of the way, let’s eat!” Gordon decided, clapping his hands together.

“Gordon, the kitchen’s kind of… waterlogged.” Scott said. “We should clean up before we eat.”

“Spoken like someone running on a full stomach.” Gordon said, pointing to Scott’s empty cereal bowl. “I’m not doing any work until I’ve had my breakfast.” He declared, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

“Actually that’s not a bad idea.” Virgil put in. “I need coffee.” Now that the adrenaline that comes with watching a brother wipe out onto the floor was wearing off, Virgil was beginning to feel dead on his feet. But he also knew his mind was too wired to go back to sleep. 

So, coffee. It’s a cure-all. 

Eggs would be nice too. Scrambled. And some toast. With jam, of course.

“You’ll have to wait until the coffee maker dries out. And the stove. And the toaster.” Scott said, seeming to read his brothers mind.

“That’s alright,” Gordon said, “I’ve got the next best thing.” He pulled a tub of coffee ice cream out of the freezer and handed it to Virgil. Then Gordon pulled out his own ice cream bowl, that he had somehow managed to smuggle away into the freezer when this whole thing had started. He plopped down on a wet chair and began to dig in.

“Scott, you let them have ice cream for breakfast?” Virgil asked, looking from Gordon eating happily, to the tub in his own hands, to Alan going over to the freezer himself saying that he “never did get that second bowl.” 

“Bro, you’re losing your touch.” Virgil said.

“You should have seen them though, Virge. They need to be on a debate team or something. They had a whole  _ presentation _ .”

“Hey, we can do it again if you want.” Gordon offered happily. “Just as soon as I finish my-”

“ _ Gordon! _ ” 

For the second time that morning, all heads whipped around to Alan. Though, Scott for one, was relieved to see that his little brother had both feet planted firmly on the ground this time. Though Alan seemed more occupied with what he had in his hands. In one, he held an empty tub of ice cream: mint chocolate chip. In the other, was a note. It said in big black letters “ **All Gone** ”. It was signed, not with a name, but with a picture. It looked to be a doodle of a little fish with a spike sticking out of it’s forehead, but everyone in the room knew that it was meant to be a narwal.

All heads turned to Gordon.

“Heh. I actually forgot about that what with the geysers and everything.” Gordon admitted sheepishly. “ I was  _ not _ supposed to be in the room when you found that.”

“You ate all the ice cream.” Alan said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Well…” Gordon chuckled nervously.

Scott and Virgil watched their little brothers like a tennis match. Forget ice cream and coffee, what they needed was some popcorn.

Then Alan’s eyes fell on Gordon’s bowl, it was still half full. Gordon followed Alan’s gaze and his own eyes widened.

“Now, Alan. We don’t want to do anything rash, now do we?” Gordon said holding up his hands in a calming gesture.

A beat of silence.

Alan made the first move. He dashed across the room, reaching across the table to the ice cream, but was a split second too late, and Gordon just managed to whisk the bowl out of his little brothers reach.

With Gordon clutching his prize against his chest, the chase began. Zipping around chairs and stools and hiding behind big brothers, Alan ran after Gordon, each of them slipping and sliding and  _ just _ managing to stay upright.

“Gordon, get back here!” Alan yelled after him, his fingertips just brushing Gordon’s shoulder.

“Gah!” The aquanaut exclaimed as he put on a burst of speed. “You guys! Don't just sit there! Help me!” He shouted at Scott and Virgil, who were now thoroughly laughing at him.

“You know, Gordon, if I were Alan I’d be chasing you too.” Scott said.

“Just don’t fall, I’m trying to limit the number of concussed patients I’m seeing today.” Virgil added.

“Hey, I’m only  _ potentially  _ concussed!” Alan reminded them.

“Oh yeah, cause that’s  _ so _ much better, Al.” Gordon remarked sarcastically.

“Gordon!” Alan shouted as he made another grab for his brother.

“Ah! Save me!”

“That really wasn’t your smartest move, Gords.” Scott said.

“Come on, guys! It’s going to melt!” Gordon pleaded.

“You know something? I really don’t want coffee ice cream, that’s Scott’s favorite, mine’s rocky road.” Virgil realized aloud, ignoring Gordon and pulling his preferred flavor from the freezer. “You want any of the coffee kind before I put it away, Scott?”

“Alan, get off my back!” Gordon shrieked from across the room, somehow attempting to shake Alan loose while simultaneously keeping the ice cream bowl upright.

“Sure, Virgil, I’ll have some ice cream.” Scott said cheerfully. “After all I’ve had a  _ proper _ breakfast.” 

“I will never surrender!” Alan yelled, hanging onto Gordon like his life depended on it.

“Isn’t it crazy how neither of them have fallen yet?” Virgil said, scooping up some ice cream.

“It really is. But you know what they say, ‘Gravity’s got nothing on good old Tracy stubbornness.’” Scott replied.

Virgil nodded in agreement. “It sure is a shame it doesn’t work out that way for John though.” He remarked sadly.

Then, as if summoned by his name, John’s floating hologram appeared in the middle of the table, right in between Scott and Virgil’s ice cream bowls

“Hey guys, just… calling in for morning… check in… “ John’s voice trailed off as he took in the scene around him. Everything was soaked, including his brothers. Two of whom were at the table eating ice cream as if there was nothing wrong with the world, the other two were running circles around the table acting like a couple of crazed monkeys.

“What the heck is going on?” John asked, staring in disbelief at what is eyes were seeing.

“Alan, exploded the sink!” Gordon hollered as he jumped from the top of the breakfast bar.

“I did not! It exploded by itself!” Alan yelled, making a flying leap for his older brother.

John looked from Gordon to Alan, then back to Virgil and Scott, his face the picture of utter confusion.

“Well, the sink didn’t really  _ explode _ explode. More like ruptured. And I was dragged out of bed because Gordon couldn’t be bothered to read an envelope.” Virgil supplied.

“Hey! I resent that statement, I was looking for a key!” 

“Okay, so I get why you’re all soaked, but why are Alan and Gordon acting like neanderthals?” John asked, watching Alan hurl pillows at Gordon.

“You’re gonna hit the ice cream!”

“You mean more so than usual?” Scott asked. “Gordon ate all of Alan’s favorite ice cream, except for that bowl.”

“Oh, well that makes sense. They’ve chased each other through the house for less.” John nodded in understanding. 

“Hey, I’ll bet you a weeks worth of chores that Alan’ll end up getting the ice cream.” Scott said, watching his brothers run around the room.

“You’re on.” Virgil agreed. “Alan might be faster, but Gordon has more stamina. He just has to hang on long enough for Alan to burn out.”

“What about you, John?” Scott asked. “Which side are you playing for?”

“Neither. I’ll bet you a weeks worth of chores that neither one of them are going to get that ice cream.” Virgil and Scott shared a look. 

“If you say so, John.” Scott said, grinning.

Suddenly Gordon sped past the table with Alan right on his tail, Gordon flung open the bay doors and ran out onto the patio. Leaping over lounge chairs like a showjumper, he ran to the far end of the pool, skidding to a stop and turning on his toe, Gordon faced Alan. Gordon extended his arm over the pool, the ice cream bowl dangling from his fingers. 

Alan let out a gasp, coming to a halt. His eyes on his brother, then on the ice cream.

A standstill.

Virgil and Scott followed their little brothers outside, Scott grabbing the holoprojector so John could watch too.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Alan said, his eyes narrowing.

“You willing to risk it all and try me?” Gordon asked.

John rose a holographic eyebrow. “Aren’t those lines from that old western film we watched last week?”

Alan took a tentative step forward. Gordon edged his toe closer to the pool.

Alan took another step closer, and Gordon removed one finger from his hold on the bowl.

Alan stopped moving, a scowl on his face.

“That’s what I thought.” Gordon grinned, pulling a spoon from his pocket. The ice cream was half melted now, but, as he always said, “it all looks the same in your stomach.” 

“Ha!” Virgil said to Scott and John. “You each have to do my chores for a week. Except matinence on Thunderbird 2. I don’t trust you guys with her.” All the time with Gordon must’ve been rubbing off on him because Virgil was about to do a little victory dance, when John’s calm, doubtless voice stopped him. “Wait for it.”

Alan quickly did the math. He was already soaked to the skin. He had no ice cream. 

He had nothing left to lose.

So it was with a silent war cry and a wicked grin that Alan charged Gordon with a leaping tackle any football player would’ve been proud of, sending the both of them, and the beloved ice cream bowl, into the pool with a mighty splash, the silver spoon dipping under the surface with the resolve of the Titanic.

Gordon and Alan resurfaced, their blonde hair sticking to their foreheads. Each of them wore grins despite the resolution of their “battle”.

“Alan, why? Not only don’t I have ice cream, now I’m gonna have to clean the pool.” Gordon said, pouting a bit as he watched the milky film of ice cream spread across the surface of the pool.

“Come on, Gordon, you should know not to let your guard down.” Alan returned with a laugh. 

“Told you, guys.” John said grinning, he’d won the bet.

“John, you’re in space. How in the world are we going to do your chores?” Scott asked.

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I’m a patient guy, I can collect my payment next time I’m on earth. EOS, make a note of that, please: Scott and Virgil each owe me one week of chores.”

“Sure thing, John.” EOS’ amused voice came over the com link. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that John had won their little bet, but watching his brothers come to that understanding was comical to say the least. 

But the playful mood was broken by shriek from the kitchen.

“ _ What in heaven’s name?! _ ”

Grandma was awake.

And John was never happier to be twenty-two thousand miles away in orbit.

“Scott! Virgil! Gordon! Alan! In the kitchen! Now!” 

Each of them practically ran back to the kitchen, grown men or not- or simply a teenager in Alan’s case- their grandmother made them feel like they were little kids again. And this was far worse than getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

The Tracy sons lined up shoulder to shoulder, except for John, who’d switched projectors to the one on the counter, so he wouldn’t be affiliated with the rest of the offenders.

“Now. Which of you would like to tell me what happened in here?” 

There was a moment of silence, and Scott winced as each of his brothers turned to him. Oh, the joys of being the eldest.

Scott cleared his throat. “Well, Grandma, we had a problem with the sink. That’s why everything’s all wet. It took us a moment to find the key and turn off the water.”

“And my pillows and stools and chairs strewn about the floor? Did the sink do that too?”

The silence was answer enough.

“Here’s what you boys are going to do. You are all going to get mops and buckets and clean up all this water off my floor. Then you are going to help me dry out all the appliances and-”

“Grandma?” John interrupted, his tone apologetic and somewhat timid, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hold that thought. We have a situation.”

With that familiar phrase, five pairs of feet flew up the stairs, into the lounge. 

“I’ve loaded the coordinates into your nav systems.” John said. “I’ll brief you in full once you’re in the sky.”

“FAB, John. And don’t worry about the kitchen, Grandma. We’ll clean everything up as soon as we’re back.” Scott said as he pulled down the lamps.

“Yeah, and I’ll fix the sink too, promise.” Virgil said, his voice echoing as he tipped backwards into his chute.

“And if you need anything down there, just ask Alan to get it for you, we don’t want you to slip.” Gordon said, running across the room to the hidden passenger elevator.

And then it was all business, equipment was loaded and, preflight checks completed, green lights all across the board. 

Permission to launch?

Granted.

Then that beat of silence. That moment of empty space, when her boys would sit in their cockpits, waiting for bay doors to open. Senses tingling and adrenaline pumping. Fingers hovering just above controls they knew by heart.

The moment was filled by her youngest grandson. 

“I’m really sorry about the kitchen, Grandma.” Came the sincere apology. Surprising herself, tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. Oh, he was so young.

“I know, Alan.” She said, a soft smile on her lips, and understanding in her voice. 

She knew they all were, even John, who hadn’t even been on Earth for the incident. Just like she knew they would all try to keep their promises when they came home, bone tired, and dirty after the rescue. And she knew that she would send them upstairs to take naps and showers. And they wouldn’t fix their mess, even after that.

Because you couldn’t clean a kitchen that was already cleaned. 

But if there was some way, they’d certainly find it. 

Because those were her boys. Somehow they’d grown up into fine, good men before she could scarcely blink. Selfless men. 

And yet, they hadn’t changed a bit from when they were all toddling around her feet. They were still children, down at their cores.

The familiar rumbling of their engines coming alive filled the room. She and Alan watched through the window as One flew off across the ocean, followed by her sister. 

Then came the sound of Scott’s voice, determined and focused. But in her ears, she could still here the note in his voice that said he was still a little boy, just happy to be flying again, “Thunderbirds are go.” 

Those were her boys.

And the day had begun.


End file.
